By: Dane Preston

Writing Prompt: Yes

Date: 29th Apr 2022


“What were you expecting, a back and forth conversation between us and the pretty boy? Haha, no. Things, they are a changin’. But by all means, go on ahead and make yourselves comfortable. Please enjoy the following rant of a madman.”

Parts Unknown, WI

We abruptly wake up to find our limbs intertwined with our beauties; Allie and Bella. Taking control has become easier and easier with each passing day, and waking up like this doesn’t make us want to give up control anytime soon.

See, we’ve played backseat driver to the goofy boy scout Dane for far too long. It’s high time the world got a taste of what it’s like to have Fix in the driver’s seat. After all, driving’s kind of our ‘thing’, innit V? But wait, we thought we didn’t have a ‘thing’, wink wink.

Whilst laying in bed with our loves, we can hear Dane screaming to be given control again. Instead we tune the boy scout out and allow our mind to run freely thinking about what could have been.

Imagine, if only just for a moment, a world in which we had always been in control. A world in which we, Fix, had never walked away from the business. Had we been in control since getting out of prison, just imagine for a moment what it would be like to bask in our collective glory.

A world in which Allison Riggs, Isabella Zanetti, and Lauren MacKay would all be my brides. A regular bevy of beauties at my side, in bed, in the ring, in the garage, in the gym. A menagerie of muscle and mischief, a carnal cornucopia of combat. We would literally run the wrestling world.

A litter of Preston offspring to be led into the future would be led by Luke and Layla, trained by some of the best in the world, all of which bear the names Preston, Riggs, Wolf, Black, Mackay and hell, maybe even Stratford and Montuori.

We would find ourselves at the head of the table in the War Rooms of old, having wrested control from our mentors Damon Riggs, Kal X. Wolf, and Candice Black…who would no doubt be the President of the United States by now.

Of course, our brothers in arms would look a tad different. We would have Xavier, Murphy and Brandon obviously, but also Paul and Joe, as there’s no denying how dominant they are when taken seriously and given the right opportunity to display said dominance. But we would also add Bam Miller and maybe even our newly met Comedian to the roster of allies, as they are damn impressive.

We’d have compounds and family communes in some of the most desirable destinations across the world, as our combat conglomerate would know no bounds, nothing would be off limits to us.

We would rule the industry in much the same way our predecessors once did. Roving from promotion to promotion, beating the top performers in each respective company mercilessly, leaving a trail of broken bodies in our wake. 

All the gold would be piling up in our war chests and coffers with each promotion we conquer along the way. Perhaps we should steal Betsy Granger’s TARDIS and make this dream a reality…stop ourselves from ever walking away from the business in the first place.

Ah, how the mental picture ushers the welcome rush of endorphins and the scent of coffee… But wait, the coffee is real…

“We hope someone is bringing us a large mug of that caffeinated goodness.”

Our pleasant daydream about this alternate timeline or parallel universe of ours must wait for another time. We scan the room to find that Bella had snuck out in the midst of our brain being preoccupied.

The sounds of little feet running around downstairs combined with giggles and snorts tells us that the tiny hellions are awake as well.

We feel movement on the bed and we turn our attention to Allison as she gets out of bed and effortlessly flows into her robe. All the while she’s staring at us as we watch her.

“It’s not polite to stare, you know. It makes people uncomfortable…”

“So, it is you.”

“Who else would we be, love?”

“Dane, he’s usually the one in control most of the time…”

“Sadly, he’s going to feel what it’s like to sit in the penalty box while WE play the game.”

“That’s going to take some getting used to. We need to talk more about this, but first, coffee….”

Allie leaves the room and we’re left with our thoughts. Right now, we’re riding high, having redeemed ourselves and defeating a more than worthy opponent in Allen Chaney. It’s a damn shame he didn’t pay attention to the No Top Rope rule in the Bareknuckle Brawls.

Then again, we didn’t pay attention to the rules either, but then you don’t see us taking this sexy vessel very far from the ground when we’re in the ring. 

Adding to the endorphins that are currently permeating our senses, would be the fact that we FINALLY get to step into the ring with that annoying twat Sebastian Everett Bryce. And boy, oh boy, we cannot wait to shut him up… 

With a rush of adrenaline, we hop out of bed and toss on a sweat suit and sneak out of the house. We’re a few minutes walk from Church, which is equipped with the same Occhi system as Fight! Tower.

The perks of being close to mister moneybags hisself, X wanted to make sure that there would be seamless transitions in coverage anytime we traveled to Parts Unknown. Once we passed the biometrics security system, we grabbed ourselves a water and jumped onto a treadmill.

“Everything is proceeding as We have foreseen,” we stifle a chuckle. “We’ve always wanted to say that. In case you live under a rock, our name is Fix, we’re the side of Dane Preston that he’d prefer stayed hidden. Unless there’s a war that needs FIGHTing that is, then he relies on us to save his skin. Well, no more. From here on out, WE are in control. And the only skin we’ll be saving is our own from now on.”

“We made it very clear to Dane that he shouldn’t fight us and instead he should share control. He didn’t want to play ball, so we wore him down mentally and broke down the proverbial walls of our mind and found a way to take over AND trap him in the process. Now, we already know what the rest of you goofs are going to do, running your mouths and talking about how the crazy nutter with multiple personalities is off his meds and all that nonsensical bullshit.”

“That’s exactly what the fuck’s going on here!”

“For far too long, all of you jokers, trolls and haters have run your fucking mouths and fingers from behind cameras and keyboards without any fear of reprisal or retaliation. We’re here to tell you that shit stops here and now. If we have to crash your fucking show and put you on your backs in front of your own fanbase, WE WILL FUCKING DO IT. Here’s looking at you, DUKEY.”

“Mike Tyson said it best, ‘Social media has made y’all too comfortable disrespecting people and not getting punched in the face for it.’ And we couldn’t agree more.  We are the one who is more than happy to deliver a punch in the face to anyone and everyone of you punkass motherfuckers who put on the BIG DICK ENERGY façade when you’re really packing a Tic-tac nutsack.”

“And speaking of a troll lacking in what’s packing south of the border, look no further than Thaddeus Duke’s bee eff eff, man servant, hetero life mate, Sebastian Everett Bryce. Now, we get it, we’re rather protective of our people, so we can’t rightly fault you for inserting your nose into our business. That said, ya had to run your gobber all over the interwebz, didn’t you?”

“You see, it was that back and forth, your inability to mind your own and stay in your own lane that gotcha thrown into a match with us in the first place. You should be thanking Allen Chaney for taking me out, he saved you the humiliation of being left in the middle of the ring like nothing more than the crumbs left after teatime. But this time, well, this time we’ve got ourselves in a good ol’ popularity contest. Winner takes all, kinda deal.”

“Now, on the one hand ya have more of your CCPE brethren including your agent Chris Page and your friend Sahara, our Peroxide Princess, our Lovely Lauren. Seems the two of them have to do battle, and as much as I’d like to see our favorite bottle blond do her thing in the ring, it takes a man tough as nails to be worthy of VooDoo. Being that we’re sometimes a betting man, we’d let it all ride on the Chronic One.”

“Then there’s us. Now, we know you just recently won yourself a shiny in another promotion. That’s all well and good, Sunshine. But here in Fight, you’re standing between US and another shot at that which has escaped us thus far; the Empire Championship. Make no bones about it, Seabass. We’ve got unfinished business with both Warstein and Watson. So it makes no difference which one of those former NSQ fuckwaffles walk out of the PPV with the gold. We’ll be liberating it from them in due order…”

“What does any of this mean for you, Seabass? I want you to imagine one of those old timey cartoons, Popeye for example, when Bluto straps Olive Oyl to the train tracks. Well, you’re Olive Oyl in this equation and we’re the high-powered, outta control locomotive running straight for you. Only in this situation, there won’t be a Popeye around to save your sorry ass from getting eviscerated as I run you over…”

“We know what you’re thinking, you are coming in hot off a title win, you haven’t had a challenge in Fight just yet. You think you’re on a roll and nothing can stop you. Yeah, well, we felt the same way going into Countdown and we all saw how that turned out. Fact is, Seabass, you’re good. We know you’re good. There’s no denying it. We hear Chris Page running his cottonmouth plagued yap on the regular about how good CCPE contracted talent is. He’s no dummy, just don’t tell him we said so.”

“The thing is, we nearly died in the ring against Dickie Watson. On the one hand, we have him to thank for finally breaking Dane’s will enough for us to have a voice and eventual control of our vessel, on the other hand we’ve got revenge on our mind. Then there’s the issue of whether or not Watson will defeat the would be usurper, Shawn Warstein. Should that happen, our FoCuS will shift to the new Champion and ensuring that his title reign will be brief and immemorable.”

“This is where we are at an impasse, Sebastian. We know that you were merely standing up for your friends, honorably enough. But that doesn’t absolve you of your transgressions against us. For weeks, maybe months you’ve run your mouth and cracked your jokes about us and our condition. We were unable to meet you in the ring the first time around, and you seem to believe that’s due to us fearing you, or being inferior to you. You’re going to find out just how wrong you were in thinking such nonsense, and it will be a painful realization.”

We hop off for a water break as the door to Church opens up and Allison walks in, a travel mug in hand, still wearing her robe. She walks over and places the travel mug in the bottle holder of the treadmill.

“We need to talk after you finish up here. I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you.”

“Did someone we know die?”

“No, Fix. We’ll talk when you get back to the house.”

The rest of the workout flew by, our FoCuS was no longer on our match with Bryce, and the workout suffered for it. We decided to throw the towel in early, we’d have more time to work out in the coming days. We checked our phone for any important messages. Nothing.

We checked our phone again to see if Sahara ever bothered calling us back after our phone call a month or so ago. Why we even bother, we don’t know. Per usual, no return phone call from her. We’re beginning to think she really has moved on and maybe it’s time we did the same.

Getting back to the house, we showered and got dressed quickly. Our curiosity had gotten the better of us and we absolutely needed to know what was so important for Allison to interrupt our workout like that. We’d skipped out on breakfast, but was happy to see a steaming plate waiting for us in the dining room.

Allie was at the table with her Macbook Pro, hard at work as usual. We sat in silence while she tapped away and allowed us to refuel. After clearing our plate, we took it to the kitchen, rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher. When we turned around, there she was, a serious look chiseled into her lovely face.

“If you don’t stop doing that, we’re going to start calling you Batman…”


“Whatever you say, love. Now what was so important that you wanted to talk to us about earlier?”

“Lauren is no longer with FIGHT.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was fired, Fix.”

“One less person we have to contend with for the shot at the Empire Championship.”

“That’s not quite the reaction I was expecting.”

“But that also means we won’t be able to Boobplex her fine ass across the ring then rub it in her stupid husband’s face for the next year like we planned to.”

“Oh, there it is.”

“What’s that?”

“Your initial reaction was very uncharacteristic of you.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve pretty much come to the realization that she didn’t care about us the way we cared about her. It is what it is. She’s got Mr. Moneybags to take care of her from now on, but she’ll land on her feet regardless.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Is something else the matter?”

“Other than our friend getting fired, or you telling me that Dane is no longer in control?”

“Does that upset you?”

“I’d be lying if I said no.”

“We get it…”

“Look, you’re basically telling me that my husband is gone. This isn’t something that’s going to be easy for me, Bella, or the kids to get used to.”

“We’re just as much your husband as he is.”

“I understand that, but you’re also a totally different person, too. Different feelings and emotions. All the memories I have are with him. So it feels different.”

“Love, we were part of those memories too, yanno. We’re two pieces of the whole.”

“I know, I know. This shit is just so complicated sometimes.”

“You’re telling US. Remember, we had to sit in the back and had no say in anything that was going on. Your Friendly Neighborhood Boy Scout was running the show. There was no balance…We will do our best to make this transition as easy for everyone as we can.”

“No say in what was going on. Hmm.” She looked at us for a moment with those steel blue eyes of hers. “Would you have still married me if you had been in control?”

“Without a doubt. When we say we have had no say in anything, we mean since the splintering of our mind. Since we were in the coma.”

“I see.” She said to us, likely unsure of what to think of the situation, with her eyes still trained on us. Like she was studying us. Maybe she was looking for the Boy Scout, maybe she was just looking at us. We don’t really know for sure. “I’m not even sure how to explain this to the kids. Or even if we should right now. Or even when would be a good age to do it. Hell, I don’t even know if one day I am going to wake up and one OR both of you be gone and me be married to someone else. I don’t know how Toddy does it with 28 Austins, I can barely keep up with the two of you.”

“She’s worried about the two of you…just wait til she figures out I’m still trapped in here…”

Our eyes went wide. We don’t know where that voice came from. Is this what the Boy Scout felt like the first time he heard us speak? Allie’s eyes narrowed, she can tell something just happened.

“What is it? Is Dane pushing back?”

“Um, yeah. He is, I think…”

“You think? What do you mean, you think? You don’t know?”

“He doesn’t sound like himself. He sounds different. Sure of himself…” We didn’t know how else to explain it to her. Hell, we didn’t know how to make sense of it ourself. “Can, uh, can we change the subject?”

“Sure.” She paused briefly, no doubt trying to find something else to talk about, but knowing this sudden change or difference was on her mind. “Are you ready for this match coming up with SEB?”

“Unfortunately for Seabass, We’re more ready than ever.”

“I’ve never thought to ask, is this YOUR first actual match in the ring, being in control?”

“You know, we never thought about it that way, but yes, we think it is. Since you put it that way, it kinda changes the way we feel going into it. Don’t get us wrong, it doesn’t break our confidence in any way, now we just feel a bit different.”

“Makes it a big night for you. We’ll have to celebrate afterwards, just you, me and Bella.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Provided we give all of us a reason to celebrate.”

“I’ve had enough talk about wrestling for one day.” She said rubbing her neck some, she always got tense when she was trying to learn something new with our condition. “You know, I’ve been thinking about doing a DNA test on me, you know ever since Aunt Voo did hers and the kids. I know there’s Italian in me, but I’ve been wondering if that’s the only thing.”

“You totally should, with your grandparents on your dad’s side dying and having no real connection to any of his relatives, you might even find some long lost family members to tell you some interesting history.”

“I think you should take one too, Fix. See if your condition is actually from head trauma, or if it is hereditary and runs in your family. Speaking of your family, when’s the last time you spoke with Dylan and Jordan?”

“The night they surprised us with the baby.”

“You really should get in touch with your brother. I talk to Jordan at least once a week about your condition. I should tell her about the change that happened today too. When you’re ready, maybe you could share with me what you felt and what actually happened?”

“Yeah, maybe once we get through this match. The last thing we need right now is an unnecessary distraction.”

“Fair enough.”

She did this nervous little knuckle rap on the granite countertop, before spinning on her heels and slowly walking out of the room. This isn’t the first time we’ve made her uncomfortable and confused. It most likely won’t be the last time either.

Undisclosed Location

While those two idiots are busy at each other’s throats vying for control, I stick to the shadows and run my own schemes. There are three phones sitting on the hood of my rental car. I know I’m expecting a call, but from whom, and on which phone, I don’t know. Then MY phone starts ringing.

“Yanne, I told you not to call me unless it was an emergency.”

“That was before Chris Page showed up and interrogated me a few weeks ago. He knows that you’re the one who put me up to going after Joe…”

“Premature and unfortunate, but someone was bound to figure it out eventually. I’ll wire over the last payment. After that, don’t ever contact me again. Got it?”

She hangs up without another word. I throw the phone against the cinder block wall and watch it scatter into several fragmented pieces. Even the best laid plans hit a snag every once in a while. It’ll be fun to sit back and watch Montuori run around making accusations without any actual proof.

“I need to figure out a way to heal my mind. Otherwise those two idiots will continue ruining my reputation…and neither one of them are even THE REAL ME.